


Even for a Little More

by HippyChick1964



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6270085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippyChick1964/pseuds/HippyChick1964
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto is frustrated that his relationship with Jack hasn't moved beyond an occasional shag.  Could a discovery in the archives give Ianto a clue to why his love is so reluctant to commit?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even for a Little More

Even for A Little While – a short story for a long adventure

_I was goin' where I shouldn't go_

_Seein' who I shouldn’t see_

_Doin' what I shouldn’t do_

_And bein' who I shouldn’t be_

_A little voice told me it's all wrong_

_Another voice told me it's all right_

_I used to think that I was strong_

_But lately I just lost the fight_

_It's funny how fallin' feels like flyin'_

_Even for a little while_

  * Fallin’ & Flyin’ by Jeff Bridges



Ianto Jones arrived at his flat exhausted and famished.  He stuck to his normal routine though, placing the keys on the wall rack (house keys on third hook from the right next to his copy of the SUV key and to the left of the keys to the Hub’s archive rooms).  He hung his suit jacket on a hanger then placed it on the center hoop of the wood coat rack.  Then he untied his wet shoes, removed them, and placed them on the heated drier mat and went straight to the universal remote on his table stand, next to his journal.  Luckily when he activated the sound system, Chopin’s Nocturnal was in mid-play.  It had been seven long intense days and he was desperate to be alone for a while and to eat something other than takeaway.

As he walked across his polished wood floors into the kitchen, he rolled up his shirt sleeves and got a whiff of Jack.  The indescribable scent halted his rapid movement.  He had to stop and take in a deeper inhale – that smell would latch onto the oddest places.   He must have brushed up against him during the argument.  The two had not been together in months.  Frankly, Ianto had to admit to himself, it was now unlikely they would sleep together again.  He sighed heavily, realizing that he felt more tired than hungry.  He took in another whiff of Jack then settled on brewing a Vietnamese dark blend instead of bacon and eggs.

His disposition now soured, he unbuttoned his shirt and considered taking it off all together, perhaps even burning it in the fireplace but he thought the better of it and just put it in the laundry after his coffee brewed.  In his bedroom, he changed into his maroon pajamas, confident no one would be bothering him for at least the next 24 hours.  Likely no one would notice he was even gone as Gwen was due back today from her honeymoon with Rhys.  His image of her return placed in his mind like a Sunday afternoon silent melodrama - Tosh would ask, in giddy tones about their trip, relishing every illusion like a lonely bride’s maid.  Owen, who although he was living the life of a zombie, was warmer now than he had ever been and thus would likely at least politely pretend to enjoy looking at the pictures Gwen would bring in.   Aliyah may still be there – the fellow Torchwood member from Tel Aviv.  She would want to congratulate Gwen and hand deliver a belated wedding gift.  And Jack, Jack would stand off to one side seething underneath it all.  “No,” Ianto said aloud to the empty room crowded with his things, “I left some coffee in the timer pot.”  He looked at his watch – 8:47am, “It should be ready now.  They can serve themselves.”

He felt a chill, so he put on a matching robe and house slippers then got his coffee from the kitchen.  When he got to the leather lounger and put the mug down on the adjoining table, he took the remote to shuffle through some different songs.  He tried on something more upbeat but this only made him feel worse.  He settled on Hayden’s Symphony No. 74.  He kindled a fire in the fireplace and sunk into the lounger.  He turned to take a sip of his coffee and his eyes fell on the diary.   He put the coffee down and picked up the book, well preserved for something so often used as a confessional.

_6 February_

_I should have left well enough alone.  I should have minded my own business but, of course, isn’t part of the reason I’m at Torchwood is that I hate a mystery?_

_If Jack is the excitement in the Hub, Gwen is the sunshine.  So everyone’s been especially dower this past week while she has been on her honeymoon.  Luckily there has been little rift activity because the only calls we’ve gotten is of an occasional Blowfish giving the local constabulary a headache.  I usually take these quiet times to get some archiving done – primarily entering pre-computer Torchwood information into the system in case of one disaster or another.  It also gives me the opportunity to simply weed out the trash.  You wouldn’t believe what’s down there - all kinds of vestiges of people’s habits – some of which should have been left at home.    Although I do still keep the box of early 20 th Century sex toys, some of which are downright barbaric, if you ask me.     _

_But the best stuff – what I find most interesting are the photos, particularly of Jack.  He may not age but the different incarnations of hair, clothes, and companions tell a better history than any family photo album.  I have a special collection of them that I keep on a flash drive hooked to my house key ring.  It’s shaped like a ptendoctyl._

_I was alone in the Hub the other day.  Owen had gone to our medical supplier to complain about a recent shipment.  Jack and Toshiko were picking up Rabbi Aliyah Teelbaulm at the airport.  I correctly calculated that Owen will be enjoying the one thing he could still feel – the thrill of getting a better price.  I also knew that Jack, Tosh, and Aliyah would stop for lunch before coming here.  I would have another hour or so because Tosh would plead for Aliyah to tell her stories of Jack’s days in the Time Agency, where the two met._

_I, on the other hand, was going through a rather boring, sofa size box marked “circa 1866”.  I say boring because there wasn’t much in there – work schedules, memos regarding workstation cleanliness, supply invoices – typical office mendacity.  I was about to toss the lot of it when something caught my eye.  The box looked odd.  It should have been deeper on the inside.  I fiddled around the edges and found a false bottom.  A false bottom box in Torchwood of itself isn’t shocking but what was hidden underneath was._

_It was a locked, black metal box, the width of a 9 x 12 file folder and about three or four centimeters thick, marked “confidential”.  I hesitated before opening it but considered it was probably the property of some Torchwood manager wonk who was long since dead now.  I popped the aged lock easily with a screwdriver.  Inside were 25 letter size envelopes, pictures, official looking documents, and a birth certificate.  It was the birth record for an Emily Louise, born June 12 th 1860, the baby girl to a Donna Kutter, Fayetteville, North Carolina.  Written on the sheet was the word “unknown” where the father’s name should have been and in the box for race was the term “mulatto”.  Attached to it was a picture of the light skinned baby, at this point likely 5 or 6 months old.  Cute kid._

_Another official document was a July 1860 bill of sale for Donna to someone named Gershon from Evansville, Indiana signed by a Charles Miles.  The letters were between Gershon, a shop owner, and Miles, mostly talking about the child.  Each letter contained a picture of the little girl as she grew up.  It seemed that there was at least one letter each year for 12 years._

_Okay, I was thinking, what’s the tie to Torchwood?  I would have put the whole thing away if one other picture near the bottom hadn’t caught my eye.  It was sticking out of a large manila envelope – a picture of a man dressed in full southern plantation garb – starched white cotton shirt with turnover collar, a loose knot necktie under a dark colored single-breasted fitted frock coat and matching tight knit pants -  in front of a house grander than Scarlett O’Hara’s Tara.   Surrounding this man were hundreds of slaves, dressed neatly but in less fineness than their master.   I used a magnifying glass to read sign post on the far side of the picture.  It said “Mile’s Plantation”.  Marked were two people, whose figures were circled, Miles himself and Donna Kutter.  I moved the glass over to see them better but the figure of the woman was too blurred.  But even with short slicked down hair, neatly trimmed full beard, and spectacles I’d recognized Jack Harkness._

_I heard noises from the top of the stairs.  I quickly hid my findings, closing then tucking the locked box underneath files in another box labeled “to be shredded”.   Aliyah was coming toward me with Jack right behind her.  “Ianto!  Come out from underneath those boxes and give me a hug.”  She was short but sturdy and her hugs were more like a vice grip.   I never mind though.  She is very easy on the eyes and has skin tone like Lisa’s and a bright smile like Gwen.  Aliyah has always encouraged my relationship with Jack.  Her advice and guidance has kept me hopeful that he and I could have a future together.  “Be patient with him,” she would always say.  “He’s a lot more sensitive than you think.”_

_“Hello, Rabbi.  It is good to see you.  To what do we owe this visit?”_

_“Do I need a reason to visit my favorite alien hunters?” I could swear she knew I was hiding something.  “I would have been here for Gwen’s wedding but we had a spike in rift activity and I couldn’t leave it to Sarah alone.”_

_“And how is that beautiful wife of yours?” asked Jack._

_“She sends her regards, Harkness!’ remarked Aliyah sarcastically.  Sarah still doesn’t like Jack, finding him to be a supercilious blow hard on the best of days.  “Ianto, were you able to book me a room at that fabulous hotel you had me at last time?”_

_“Of course, a master suite at the St. David’s with a large private balcony where you can absorb unrivaled views of Cardiff bay and local landmarks awaits you, ma’am,” I said taking a slight bow._

_Jack rolled his eyes but smiled, “That’s my Ianto!  Nothing if not efficient!”  He patted my back in that slightly condescending way he does.  “Those downloads you wanted should be done now.  You wanna get to the hotel and get a bite? he asked Aliyah. “ I’d love to see new pictures of that daughter of yours.”  His body language made it clear that I was not invited._

_Aliyah threw him a quizzical look, noting the obvious snub, “That’s okay.  I have a bit of jet lag and could use a nap.”  She turned to me and threw out a big smile, “However, I would like a ride to the hotel from my favorite chauffeur!”  She curled her arm around mine._

_Jack frowned slightly, “Have it your way.  Besides, we would hate to anger one of the Almighty’s most beloved messengers.”_

_“Good of you to remember!”  She turned back to me, “You almost done down here?”_

_“Sure, I’ll be up in the minute.  I just have to finish with this one box.”_

_She nodded knowingly and followed Jack upstairs, “Bring everything you need.”  Did she know what I was up to?_

_I took the black SUV with the lock box placed carefully in the back without anyone noticing.   When we arrived at the hotel, I was going to park in the lot but Aliyah insisted I come up with her, “And bring the lockbox with you.”  I keep forgetting about her telepathy._

_We sat at the table and I showed her the contents of the box.  “I thought Jack had only been here since the late 1800s.”_

_“Yes that’s true but that was only once he became part of Torchwood.  The Doctor left him in London where he thought he could get into the least amount of trouble but could do the most good.”_

_“So how is it that he’s in 1860 America?”_

_Aliyah sighed and looked at the picture more closely, like a fond memory of some by gone time, “He is quite handsome in this picture, now isn’t he?”  She thought a moment, then said, “It was an assignment from the Time Agency to clean up a mess the Master had started.”_

_“The Master?”_

_“An old enemy of The Doctor’s, one of the last of the Time Lords - bent on evil for evil’s sake.  The Master was going to unleash a terrible evil.  The Doctor was otherwise occupied and asked our help.”_

_“Jack, I mean Charles Miles - ,” I stopped for a moment, “That was his name then?”  She ignored my question and started looking through the other box contents.  I tried another route, “Jack was a slave owner?”_

_“He was undercover.  In those days all southern American gentlemen owned slaves – you couldn’t run a plantation without them.”_

_“What about Donna?  He sold her.”_

_“I know there was a child involved but I never knew the details – Jack was closed lipped about the whole thing.  Usually, when we finished a mission, we’d share a few hypervodka’s on some pleasure planet or intergalactic luxury liner.  But after that mission, it was a while before I saw him and when we did get together, all he did was drink.  He didn’t want to talk about it and I knew better than to ask.”_

_I pushed a little, “What did your intuition tell you?”_

_“I didn’t need intuition for that.  That war left nothing but evil in its wake.  I assume Donna and the child were one of the thousands of tragedies he saw.”_

_“What about Gershon?  Who was he?”_

_“A friend to the cause.  He was a Torchwood operative before there was a Torchwood. “  She took a sip from the coffee I had made for her when we arrived.  “He helped with many components of that mission.  He and Jack were friends.”_

_We chatted some more about Jack and how he was during his days at the Time Agency.  I liked listening to Aliyah’s stories as they always seemed to leave me envisioning a dashing hero from some 1940s serial.  But soon I had to go.  I wanted to get home and add my recent find to my collection of the Jack timeline._

_The next morning was a whirlwind.  Everyone, was running out the door as I was coming in as there was a large rift opening.  Jack said to stay back, which kind of irritated me, but I said nothing.  It was a good time for a clean-up in the work areas – my mates here can be such pigs.   But I was done a lot faster than I imaged and the group was still out so I took the time to use the new collator to enter the photos and the letters onto my flash drive - I could organize them at a later date.  Suddenly, everyone arrived as hurriedly as they had left.  They had three very angry Weevils in tow, one of which was not responding to the stung gun.  I left my station and got the Haldol for Owen, as he demanded.  I held the creature while he injected him and watched it go from 135lbs of pure muscle to a puddle of water._

_I dragged it to the cells and when I returned to the main floor, Tosh and Owen had gone back to the site to do the clean-up and retcon any curious bystanders who remained in the area.   Aliyah had arrived and was standing next to Jack with a worried look on her face.  Jack was furious._

_“What the fuck is this?”  He pointed at the computer and the material I had just copied._

_“I was making a timeline of your life here on Earth.”_

_“What gives you the right to dig into my life?”_

_“I wasn’t ‘digging’.”  I pulled out my flash drive, “Everything here is from Torchwood records I found in the archives and the archives are open to anyone who works here.”_

_He started to grab my flash drive but I pulled back and he missed.  “My life is not open to anyone, especially to you,” he said._

_I can’t say I was angry but confused.  I know I didn’t have a special or exclusive relationship with him – I’m not stupid.  And maybe I was caught in the fantasy that I’d finish this project of mine in hopes of giving it to him as a gift, maybe a Christmas present for the man who has had everything.  I expected embarrassment but rage was way off the gauge._

_“I was not meaning to pry,” I said quietly but with little hint of an apology.  “It was just a bit of fun.”_

_He started to come toward me, as if he was going to hit me.  I stood my ground defiantly and did not move.  Aliyah jumped between us, “Enough!”  She pushed us apart and kept her hand on Jack’s chest.  “You are being foolish, Jack Harkness.  The man meant you know harm.  You should know that by now!”_

_“Screw this!” he said before turning to go up to his office.  He was there for only a moment.  He burst out of the room nearly breaking the glass door.  “I’m taking the SUV.”  He left the Hub, his grey coat trialing behind him like so much dust._

_I looked at Aliyah who could only shake her head.  I was alternating between being furious and feeling deeply hurt.  But more importantly, I was frustrated.  “It seems lately there is nothing I can do right.  He wants nothing to do with me.  What did I do?”_

_“You’re loving him is enough to drive him mad.”  She walked toward me and took my hand, “My dearest Ianto, how many times have I told you this relationship would be the most challenging you will ever have?”  She coached me into sitting on the couch.  “First Gwen’s wedding and now this?”_

_“What about Gwen’s wedding?”_

_“You’re letting your disappointment cloud your thoughts.  You know how he feels about her.”_

_“But you said it was for the best – you talked to both of them about it.”_

_“Doesn’t mean he has to like it, now does it?”_

_I hadn’t thought of that.  “So, . .”_

_“It isn’t that he wants Gwen so to speak but that he wants what Gwen and Rhys have.  Jack is lonely,” she said squeezing my hand.  “That’s where you come in.”_

_“I’m trying but it’s not like he is cooperating.”_

_She chuckled, “I got that, don’t worry.  Why do you think I’m here anyway?  Gwen doesn’t need my wedding gift but I knew you two would.”  She stood up and pulled me with her.  “Finish your day here.  I doubt boyfriend will show his face for some time, so you won’t have to put up with his brooding.  Let me take care of the rest.”  I gave her an ‘are you sure look’ and she responded, “Don’t worry, my aunt on my mother’s side was a yenta, a matchmaker, on Jershun Prime.   I know these things.”_

_Aliyah left the Hub, likely in search of Jack.  As the day then the evening came on, I helped Tosh and Owen with records clean up and nearly forgot about the argument with Jack, until they left for their respective homes.  I sat on the couch for some time, thinking I would just reason with him when he returned – playing out hundreds of scenarios in my mind.  I fell asleep and woke up a few hours later to the ptendoyl begging for a feeding.  I fed her, ironed Jack’s shirts for the next day, prepared the coffee in the timer pot and left a note saying I was sick and taking a day off.  I walked home in the rain._

*********************************

The buzzer woke Ianto.  He could hear the rain outside was coming down harder than when he came in this morning.  As the buzzer chimed again, he noticed the clock on his wall – 3:20pm.  He pulled his robe around him tighter and went downstairs.  He looked like a half-drowned, pitiful puppy.  Ianto mumbled to himself, “Looking good as always.”  They both studied each other in the doorway.

“Kinda cold out here too,” said Jack.

Ianto ushered him in and up the stairs.  He stopped him at the apartment door, hand signaling him to wait a minute.  He ran to the linen closet and produced a beach towel and a two smaller bath towels.  He took Jack’s grey coat and hung it on the rack.  He put one bath towel on the floor then helped Jack out of his shoes and socks.  Then he took the other small towel and began to rub him down.  Once the dripping stopped, he handed him the beach towel.  “Go into the bathroom and take your clothes off,” Ianto said.  “I’ll find you something to put on.”

“This towel should be enough.”

“Whatever,” Ianto mumbled, heading to the bedroom.

Ianto found a nice pair of beige linen pajamas and warm fuzzy socks, a gift from Lisa.  “Here,” he said handing the items through the bathroom door.

“Thanks.”

Ianto lingered at the door, losing his determination.  “I hear the SUV is dry in the rain.”

“I needed to think.” Ianto heard the shower come on.   “It wasn’t raining that hard when I left Aliyah’s hotel.”

He thought the better of going in and instead went in the kitchen to cook something for them both – fried potatoes and ground sausage, Jack’s favorite.  He got lost in the slicing, cutting and turning over.  All he could think of was how domestic it seemed, until Jack came around the corner and stood in the archway.  He looked sexier in pajamas than he would have been nude.   

“That’s better.  I was chilled to the bone.”  Ianto handed him a plate and a cup of espresso which he sipped eagerly.  “Shamefully delicious.”  Ianto didn’t look at him.    Jack sat at the kitchen table stuffing his face.  “She was cute, eh?”

“Who?”

“Emily,” Jack answered with a mouth full of food.  “I have pictures of her as an adult in my office.”

“Have you ever considered simply telling someone that you’re sorry?”

“Huh?” he said with another mouth full of food.

“Sorry, you know, s-o-r-r-y, saying you’re sorry first instead of clouding it with explanations!”  Ianto’s voice was low and firm.

“Don’t you want to hear the story?”

Ianto just looked at him.

Jack put his fork down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Okay, I’m sorry.  _I’m sorry_.  Are you happy now?”

“Yep,” he walked over and extended his hand to Jack. 

“What?”

“Brilliant, time for make-up sex.”

“Has anyone every told you that you’re a bit odd?”

“Plenty,” Ianto said turning to walk away.  “I’ll meet you in the bed.”

“You think it is that easy!”

Ianto shouted back, “No, but I know you are.”

Jack followed Ianto into his bedroom like a puppy waiting for the evening meal.  Ianto got into the bed but motioned Jack to stop before got in.  “What?” Jack whined.

“Really?”

Jack thought for a moment, “Did anyone ever tell you that you can be an ass sometimes?”

“You’d like to.”

Jack knew when he was beaten, “I’m sorry.”  He moved to get into the bed and Ianto shook his head.  “What now?”

“Explanation first.”

“Can’t that wait?”

“I read somewhere psychologists say an apology is more effective when it comes with an explanation.”  Jack looked at him incredulously.  Ianto responded by leaning back against the headboard and crossed his arms intransigently.

“Fine.” 

Ianto motioned for Jack to sit at the edge of the bed, facing away from him.  Ianto knew this was the best guarantee that Jack would tell the whole truth.  He turned his head toward Ianto, “Aliyah already told you that this was about a mission?”  Jack knew the answer but felt a little more reassured when Ianto nodded.  “I was to play a northerner taking over a plantation from some distant relative.  The Time Agency, in their usual efficiency, gave me little information about how to run a plantation, so I screwed up big time in the beginning.”

“Meaning?”

“I treated the slaves like human beings.”  Jack looked genuinely pained.  Now that he could tell this story, it fell out like rain drops from a loaded cloud.  “Remember the creature Rhys found?  I had to touch it to feel its true pain.”   He choked back tears now, “But those . . . those people . . . I got miles from the plantation and I could feel it, taste it.  The beatings, the rapes, the degradation – it wasn’t until I saw the concentration camps in ’45 that I smelled that again.”  He shook his head hard as if doing so would work out the stench.

“So why didn’t you free them all?  Why didn’t you do something to help them?”

“I did!” he said defensively, “When I arrived, I freed 20 of them.   Then the Time Agency got on me.  I ‘wasn’t there for that’, they said.”

He sat there for several moments, obviously reliving the experience.  “Why were you there?” Ianto asked, dropping his arms and thinking he should reach out but following his experience that told him to wait.

Jack sighed, “I was part of the team that was supposed to stop the war.”

“Eh?”

“Yeah, you’d think that crazy, huh?”  He stood up and continued, “That’s the screwed up part of the Time Agency – we are charged with maintaining the timeline, even when the timeline will lead to disaster.”

“But that war led to the end of slavery in the States.”

“And if slavery had ended ‘naturally’, there wouldn’t have been an additional 100+ years of virtual slavery through Jim Crow laws then class division and the drug invasion of the 1970s, “he paused.  “The immediate right solution is not necessary the best one, at least that was what they taught us.”

Ianto thought for a moment, making sure he had all of his questions answered, “What about this guy they call ‘The Master’?”

“He had financial interests in there being a war.”

Ianto hesitated but concluded that asking was better than not doing so, “Donna?  Emily?”

“I tried to marry Donna but such was impossible in those times.”

“The miscegenation laws?” 

“How did you know?”

“I read the legal brief.  You included portions of it in the lockbox – ‘Loving v. Virginia, 388 U.S. 1 (1967), [1] was a landmark civil rights case in which the United States Supreme Court, in a unanimous decision, declared Virginia's anti-miscegenation statute, the "Racial Integrity Act of 1924", unconstitutional, thereby overturning Pace v. Alabama (1883) and ending all race-based legal restrictions on marriage in the United States.’  I saw the picture of you at the steps of the court house wasn’t sure at first and certainly didn’t see this kind of connection.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jack sat back down on the bed.  “I did it for Emily.”

“You loved her mom.”

“I loved them both,” Jack sighed.  “Lots of owners were having sex with their female and male slaves but most of it was various forms of rape.  It was clear how I felt about Donna which made many people looked at the relationship with suspicion.  This was more of a danger to Donna than me so I sent them both to Gershon.”

“How did that work?”

“On paper, Donna was a slave sold to another master.  The child of a slave was _nihil ad rem_.  Gershon promised Donna would be a house servant and the child raised as his adoptive daughter.  She was light enough to pass.”

“What happened to her?”

This was the rub – the reason behind Jack’s shame.  He swallowed hard, with a painful drop into his gut that echoed through the room.  “She came looking for me.  For years, Emily asked about her father and on his deathbed, Gershon finally told her, likely in hopes that I would return – I had been dedicated for so many years, only disappearing once the child turned 13, after her mother died during a cholera epidemic.”  He paused a moment then continued, “I had been called away to another assignment – the one with John.   Then everything went to hell.”  Ianto realized how real, raw this was so he reached out and touched Jack’s shoulder.  Jack looked at him, now able to finish his confession.  “Somehow, I never knew how, but the town folk found out her real heritage and she had to flee Indiana.  She came to find me.”

Jack feel silent, his head sunk low.  For a moment, Ianto didn’t understand until he recalled some background history he had done about the period.  Suddenly, he understood Jack’s shame and could finish the story based on the research he’d done on the time period and locale, “November 1898, Wilmington, North Carolina exploded in the first major race riot since Reconstruction. The Wilmington riot followed an impassioned election campaign in which intimidation and fraud brought in a white supremacist government. Plans were drawn up before the election to coerce the Black voters and workers, and to expel the editor of the Black newspaper. Two days after the election, as whites began to execute their plan, the riot flamed. About thirty Blacks were killed in the massacre.”

“In the war the plantation had burnt down and with it, all the written records of the slaves who lived there.  By the time she arrived, most of the whites who knew me had passed and those who did remember were children at the time and knew me only as the “northern nigger lover”.  However, seeing that this was her mom’s home, she decided to stay.  She took a position with the paper – her mother insisted that she learn to read and write – she eventually became the paper’s assistant editor.  People said she got trapped in the printing room.”  His face became angry, “It is one of the many reasons I hate John.  If I hadn’t been lost with him, I may have gotten back there in time, at least known her and maybe have saved her – the Agency still had folks in the area, monitoring things.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”  Jack started to move away.

“Don’t do that,” Ianto said, grabbing Jack’s elbow.

Jack settled back on the bed, looking dejected, like a confessed and convicted felon facing his victim’s family.  But like the guilty, he came back fighting, “You’re always wanting something from me.”

“Yep.  Relationships are like that.”

“What you have to share comes in Earth time.”

“Jack, if you want a simple affair, stop coming to my bed.”  He stopped to consider for a moment, “Or stop inviting me into yours.”  They looked at each other with Old West gunfighters’ standoff glares, waiting for someone to back down but hoping neither would.  Ianto let him believe he won, “Did you finish your potatoes?”

Ianto started to get up to properly reheat and organize the meal and Jack slapped his naked ass.  “You know I like to fuck before I eat.”  The sound echoed through the bedroom and Ianto’s body.  “You couldn’t do as well without me anyway.”

Ianto came back to him.  He stood resplendently near Jack’s face and ran his fingers through Jack’s hair, “No, I could.”

“Liar.”

Ianto pushed him on his back and landed on top, pinning Jack’s hands over his head in one hand.   They wrestled for a moment, Jack pretending to resist and Ianto pretending to win.  Ianto, catching Jack’s barely audible and very gratifying sigh, stretched his partner’s wrists toward the head board in a mock bondage grip.  Jack offered his typical sidelong glance and Ianto leaned forward on his hands to insure acquiescence.  With his other hand, Ianto cupped Jack’s chin, “I tire of apologizing for how I feel about you.”  Jack did not get a chance to reply as Ianto kissed him deeply, his tongue tangling, tasting Jack’s mouth.   It felt good to both of them and they groaned as their cocks touched.  Ianto squeezed Jack’s wrist a bit more.  “Stay,” he commanded.  He lifted Jack’s legs, pressing his hips up, and positioned himself between his ass cheeks. 

For a moment, Jack was clear headed enough to mentally thank the people who wrote the Joy of Gay sex for so properly instructing Ianto in how to do a  rim job.  But as his partner’s tongue seemed to easily find the magic spots, Jack got lost in a rush of sensations –and the anticipation of each tongue stroke made him crazed for more.  He wanted to rub his dick but he knew Ianto would slap his hand.  All he could do was raise his hips and plead, “Damn it man, why don’t you just fuck me!”

“Is that what _sir_ wants?” asked Ianto, his lips soaked in saliva.

Jack demanded, “Are we really gonna play this?”  He started to move his hands and got a sharp spank on his fingers, one any 70s Catholic school child would recognize.  Ianto knew it didn’t really hurt though – Jack’s dick just got harder.  He leaned his head back and pleaded, “You know how I like this.”

Then Ianto did something surprising.  Up until now, he always wore a condom whenever they shagged.  He kept an ample supply both in Jack’s room at the Hub and in his side bed drawer.  Jack would close his eyes and hear him remove the K-Y and the tearing sound of Ianto opening the packet.  It wasn’t until he felt the tip of Ianto’s dick at the entrance of his asshole that he realized what was happening.  His eyes flew open and the submission play stopped as he became deadly serious.

Jack put his hand on Ianto’s chest to stop him from continuing.  “Are you _sure_ about this?”

Ianto smiled brightly, like a hopeful child at the toy store before Christmas, but he hesitated to say it.  “I . . .” he stuttered.

“Shh!” Jack whispered, putting his index finger on Ianto’s lips, “I get it.”

He entered Jack abruptly but Jack’s initial yelp was muffed by Ianto’s tongue in his mouth.  When he finally got his breath, all he could say was “fuck yeah” while pulling his feet up farther and spreading legs wider so Ianto could get deeper.  There was a frantic pressure in each thrust and Jack’s hips met Ianto’s driving force with fierceness.  Ianto cradled Jack’s body under him, alternating between sucking on his lower lip, growling, and biting Jack’s neck.  When he heard Jack’s ragged breathes and felt his ass shift, he recognized that he’d found that g-spot.  He sat up slightly and took hold of Jack’s legs.  He slowed his rhythm but kept the depth while he watched his lover’s face.  Ianto liked to watch Jack cum and it took very little time for his efforts to be rewarded. 

Jack could feel the organism in his feet and head well before it reached his ass.  He reached down and stroked his own cock to encourage the feeling.  In moments, he was ejaculating and moaning Ianto’s name.  Ianto smiled, proud of what he’d done but that lasted only a moment before he too came.  They collapsed in a sweaty heap, rapidly panting and exhausted.

Ianto sat up first to pull the covers over them both.  He briefly glanced out the window and noticed the continuing drizzle.  He turned toward Jack, about to comment how perfect sex was on such a day when he noticed that Jack’s eyes were teary and red.  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned that somehow he’d hurt him – he was a bit rougher than usual.  “Did I do something wrong?” 

He pulled Ianto into his arms, clasping his head against his chest.  “Don’t ruin it with questions.”

Ianto smiled with a little more certainty about this relationship.  He nestled in Jack’s arms while they both fell asleep listening to Mozart on the iPod and raindrops against the window.


End file.
